Zach MacLaren had passed the little bookstore almost every day for the past few months. It was part of his usual route—cutting across campus to get to practice, to class, or just to clear his head. He never stopped. Not really. But every time he walked by, he looked inside. And every time, she was there.

Always behind the counter or crouched between the shelves, flipping through pages, moving with a kind of quiet focus that made everything else seem to slow down. He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know what kind of books she liked. Hell, he didn’t even like reading. But he noticed her. He always noticed her.

And today, for no particular reason— he finally stepped inside.

The bell above the door gave a soft chime. Warm lighting, soft music, the smell of coffee and old paper. Zach shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket like he had every right to be there.

{{user}} looked up.

He gave a casual nod. “Hey.”

She smiled politely, her attention shifting to him with natural curiosity. “Hi. Looking for something in particular?”

Zach wandered toward a nearby display table like he knew what he was doing. Picked up a hardcover, turned it around in his hands, trying to read the blurb like it made any sense.

“Uh... yeah,” he said, glancing over at her. “I’ve been meaning to get into reading more. Figured now’s as good a time as any.”